The Perfect Rebound
by spatzi98
Summary: ON HIATUS UNTIL FURTHER NOTICE. Arthur finds his wife being boinked by another man. Artie's obnoxious co-worker, Alfred, decides to be his wingman and starts bringing the Brit to various clubs in search of the perfect rebound for the lovelorn Artie.
1. Prologue

Title: The Perfect Rebound

Author: spatzi98

Rating: M

Warning(s): AU, slight angst, use of human names, yaoi, France, adultery, and somewhat descriptive sexual interaction.

Genre: Romance

Summary: Arthur finds his wife being boinked by another man. Artie's obnoxious co-worker, Alfred, decides to be his wingman and starts bringing the Brit to various clubs in search of the perfect rebound for the lovelorn Artie.

Pairing(s): Arthur/Seychelles, Alfred/Arthur, slight France/Seychelles, France/Arthur, and a couple others.

Character(s): Arthur/England, Michelle/Seychelles, Alfred/America, Francis/France, and appearances from various other countries.

Disclaimer: I do not Hetalia or any of the characters, only Hidekaz Himaruya does.

* * *

><p>"Love," A English accented voice called out, "I'm home!"<p>

There was a muffled sound of moaning coming from the master bedroom.

"Michele?"

A shrill scream.

"Michele? I'm coming!"

The Englishmen followed the pained sounds and opened the door hastily.

He was appalled at what he saw.

His precious wife, Michele, pinned down to their marital bed by a stranger.

She was rasping and squealing while the intruder harshly sucked her tan breast.

Michele's caramel eyes shut in pure ecstasy and brown hair damp with sweat.

He couldn't believe it.

His wife was being satisfied by another man in their bed.

* * *

><p>AN: This is my first fan-fiction with sexual anything and I warn you that it might not be very good. Um, so this is the first chapter and the next one will be much longer. Bye, there will be more chapters up soon. I promise. :)


	2. Alfred

**Friday, 10:48 AM**

* * *

><p>"Jones!"<p>

"Yeah, Ludwig?"

The hamburger-loving office worker stared up at his boss.

The German leaned on Alfred's desk and studied the younger blonde.

"Have you seen Arthur anywhere today?" He questioned coolly.

Alfred peered over his computer monitor and saw that his British co-worker wasn't at his desk.

"Nope," He replied, stuffing more meat down his gullet.

Ludwig sighed, "Well, do you have any idea where he may be?"

"Nope,"

"Can you call him?"

"What makes you think I have Artie's cell number?"

"Listen," Ludwig shifted closure to Alfred's ear and growled, "Dummkopf, if you don't get off your fat ass and find Arthur soon… you will be very sorry."

Alfred shivered, "Y-yes, sir."

"Gut," The Aryan mumbled and walked off to his office.

"Asshole," Alfred scoffed and pulled out his cell phone.

He dialed Artie's phone number and waited for him to pick up.


	3. Arthur

"_Baka, baka, baka, baka, baka, baka, baka, baka-!"_

* * *

><p>"Hello?"<p>

"Hey, Artie! Where the fuck you at?" Alfred asked angrily.

"At the pub," Arthur grumbled lowly.

"What the heck are you doing there?"

"Drinking obviously, you twit."

"Whatever," Alfred sighed and ran a hand through his hair, "you need to come to work."

"I don't want to go back there. It's like Hell, but with florescent lighting!"

"Artie, listen. If you don't get back here soon Ludwig is gonna kill me!"

"I don't give a fuck what that potato-masher does to you!" The Brit yelled.

"_Sir, you're going to have to quiet down or we're going to have to throw you out," _A voice from the other end warned steadily.

"Artie? Are you okay?"

"I ain't doing squat for a bunch of little soda jerks! Eh, get off of me!" Arthur shrieked at the voice.

There was a whole lot of banging, rattling, and "shits" until the line went dead.

Alfred groaned, "I'm coming for you, Artie."


	4. Fired

**Friday, 9:53 PM**

* * *

><p>Alfred cautiously squeezed his black Hummer into a sketchy alley.<p>

He hopped out of the gas-guzzler and clicked the lock obsessively.

The blonde scanned the bricked alley and spotted an bright neon green sign that read, _"The Drunken Mick"_.

He marched through the door and came face to face with a bunch of the stereotypical burly men playing pool.

Alfred gulped heavily and walked briskly to the bar.

The bartender glanced up at Alfred and grunted in a heavy Scottish accent, "What cha' want, kid?"

"Um," Alfred started hesitantly, "I'm looking for a British dude named Arthur. He's really short, blonde, green-eyes? Probably drunk off his ass?"

The Scotsman scratched his head with gruff knuckles, "Aye. I've seen the man you be lookin' for. He was very loud and disrupted my customers. The prat."

There was a long silence and Alfred cleared his throat.

"So, where is Arthur?"

"Oh, I kicked 'em out," The man chuckled.

"Did you see where he went then?" Alfred asked frantically.

"I believe… he went left."

Alfred heaved, "Thanks."

He left the tavern and started for his car when he heard slurred show tunes.

"—_Different types who wear a day coat, pants with stripes, and cutaway  
>coat. Perfect fits. Puttin' on the Ritz~!"<em>

"Artie?"

Alfred walked forward cagily.

He found the lost Brit leaned against the wall with a bottle of rum in his hand, which he had probably swiped from the bar.

Arthur looked up at Alfred with misty emerald eyes and scowled, "Bloody Hell… not you! God, I hate you."

He rolled over onto his side and moaned.

Alfred smiled relief and attempted to pull Arthur up to his feet.

The heavily browed man jerked his arm away from the other's grasp, "Don't you fuckin' touch me, you tosser!"

Alfred sighed and tried again.

"Go away!"

The Brit crawled further away from his co-worker drunkenly.

"Arthur, stop moving!"

Alfred harshly tugged the squirmy man up from the ground and held him tight around the waist.

"Let go! Get your bloody hands off of me, you stupid obnoxious sheep-shagger!"

The taller blonde glared at the Brit and roughly shoved him against the cold wall.

"What are you doing-?"

"Shut the fuck up!" Alfred ordered heatedly, "you've caused enough trouble for me today and I'm sick of it. So quit your complaining and get in the car... NOW!"

Artie avoided eye contact and nodded slowly.

Alfred released the drunk's wrists and quickly shuffled Arthur to his car.

The car ride was painfully silent until Alfred's cell phone went off.

"Hello?" Alfred answered tiredly.

"Hallo," A deep German greeted back, "Did you find Arthur yet?"

"Yeah? Artie's here with me right now, but he's pretty drunk." "

That's good to hear… please inform him that he fired from this point forward."

"Sure- wait, what? Artie's fired? Why?"

"He was late to work and is obviously intoxicated, according to you. So due to the recently passed policies, he must be terminated immediately."

"But-"

"Gute Nacht, Alfred. I will see you Monday."

_Click._

Frowning, Alfred shoved his phone back into his jean pocket and looked over at the passed out man in his passenger seat.

"I'm sorry, Artie."


End file.
